


Shouldn't

by rainonpavement



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 18:08:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainonpavement/pseuds/rainonpavement





	Shouldn't

And even as Dean leans forward he thinks _I shouldn’t_ but he does. Shoves his dry lips against a pair adorned in red and tastes copper on his tongue when he pries them apart. Even as he swallows the taste and grips the worn jacket in front of him he thinks _shouldn’t_ , but he does. He pushes until Benny pushes back and he loses whatever stale, purgatory air that was in his lungs when he hits the tree. When Benny withdraws and Dean meets his eyes, finding them dark and wanting, he doesn’t think _shouldn’t_ , he prays for his life and thinks _shouldn’t have_.  
  
But when the vampire goes at him again, his fangs are gone, and he presses their bodies together in a frenzy. He claws at Dean’s shoulders with dirty nails and shoves a leg between Dean’s and holds Dean so tight against the tree he thinks he might never get enough air again. And Dean doesn’t know what he was thinking, _hell, if he even was thinking at all_ , because the roughness of Benny’s movements should be expected and welcoming, but they aren’t.  
  
Somewhere along the line of begging for closeness, for a fuck, for whatever he is missing down here, he starts struggling against it instead. Maybe Benny doesn’t notice, or maybe he doesn’t care, or maybe he _can’t_ stop, which was a part of why Dean _shouldn’t_ , but the heavy man keeps going: groping and touching and panting against Dean’s swollen lips before he leaves them to lick a long line up his throat. Dean can’t help tensing even more when the vampire lowers his head, and he closes his eyes and almost whispers another prayer before he remembers that prayers are only silent wishes you pretend that someone else can hear. Because no one can. _He_ can’t.  
  
And with that Dean’s angry, and he scrambles to get his arms between them to push Benny away, and now Benny notices, or at least acknowledges Dean’s resistance, because he looks up and glares at him. There is something in his eyes that makes Dean blame himself, the _you started it so why would you want to end it_ , and he feels himself shrink, because he doesn’t want it anymore, he didn’t know what he wanted before and neither does he now, but he knows what he doesn’t want and this is it. But Benny pierces him with black eyes and Dean can’t find it in him to rip it apart from the man, what he knows he’s been craving since he first saved Dean down here, now when he’s finally got it. But neither does he know how to continue, so he starts squirming again until Benny pushes a firm forearm against his chest and pops out his fangs.  
  
“You wanted it, brother,” he whispers tauntingly, and Dean knows that he knows that Dean doesn’t want it. And Dean knows that he doesn’t care.  
“Don’t kill me,” Dean then whispers, voice coming out all fragile and shaky and he closes his eyes in shame, but he can still hear Benny’s nod. “I won’t drink you dry, broth’r,” he purrs above him, and Dean forces himself to trust him, even though he _shouldn’t_.  
  
But when Benny fervently pulls his jacket away from his throat, he still freezes, his body tingling with fear and something else he can’t identify, and Benny chuckles darkly. “Shouldn’t be so tense, hmm?” He murmurs against his throat, and Dean thinks, _should_.  
  
And then Benny’s hand is on his jeans, pressing his palm hard against Dean’s crotch, and Dean doesn’t want it, but he gasps anyway. And Benny works him long and good until he’s straining again, just like he was at the start, until Dean’s gasping and trying to swallow the weak sounds struggling to escape his throat.  
  
Not until then does Benny fit his teeth deep in Dean’s throat, piercing the skin painfully and stopping Dean’s rapid breathing. He forces himself to take another breath when Benny lets go and laps playfully around the bite. Soon again he’s back down, sucking against Dean’s sweaty skin, and Dean feels his fingers tingle, and his legs give out. But Benny’s got him so closely pressed up against the tree that he remains standing, head high and not getting any of the blood it needs.  
  
There’s a second before Dean realizes that Benny’s not stopping. That he doesn’t know whether or not his eyes are open or closed, because all he sees is thick darkness.  
There’s not even a blink of an eye after Dean realizes that he’s dying before he’s praying to Cas.  
There’s not a heartbeat before Benny is pulled from him and Dean collapses down onto the ground and he feels more than sees the angel’s presence.  
  
“Dean,” he urges, voice rougher than Dean’s ever heard it, or he just imagines it so beneath the slow, but oh, so loud, beats of his heart. He smiles through the fog, can’t lift his hand to graps the man’s coat, can’t move closer, but he smiles. “Cas,” he whispers, throat working around the syllable.  
“Dean!” Cas shouts over him, and Dean feels himself being hauled up into a sitting position, his head lulling forward till his chin hits his chest.  
“You’re too late, broth’r!” someone laughs behind them, but Dean can’t tell who through the noise in his head. His body shakes, and his eyes sting when he opens them. The ones he meet are impossibly blue.  
  
“I knew a man with blue eyes once,” Dean whispers. “I loved him.”


End file.
